Goodbye, Sniper

Seven years ago, Pumpkin Pie was 2 months shy of a year and just learning to walk. The thought of keeping him indoors rather than out in the world exploring was a foreign one.

The time, of course, was during the Sniper shootings in our neck of the woods. There was a shooting by Michael's, which I think of every time I head over to the craft store in Aspen Hill. There was the constant hunt for THE white van, which, as we know now, was the wrong car.

And there was plenty of fear. Before Sniper, our neighborhood park was filled with nannies, parents and young children. During the Sniper Scare, our large neighborhood park became a ghost town. And still, every day at the usual gathering time, I took my son to the park. Only one other mom would be there, with her son, who is about 9 months older than mine. We'd chat about the usual things. And, of course, we'd talk about the shootings.

What was similar about this mom and me was that we both were journalists. She'd left her job at a major newspaper, I was still embroiled in mine. We wondered if, as journalists, we were less worried than everyone else. Were we simply too cynical to freak out about who could be lurking behind a tree? Were we so used to reading and writing about random acts of violence that when they entered our world, we were too jaded to care?

Whatever the reason, we  were out there, playing and enjoying life, when everyone around us was too afraid to bring the little ones outside. If someone was going to randomly show up at our neighborhood park and shoot us all ... well, we were willing to take that risk.

Eventually, of course, Muhammad and Malvo were caught, tried and convicted. And today, Muhammad was executed for his crimes.

As for my friend and me, we still don't run our lives out of fear. Even though, as it turned out, Muhammad and Malvo likely crossed paths with us way back then. After all, we all exercised at the same YMCA.